Mrs Hudson makes the improbable, probable
by Orlaine24
Summary: Some shorts where Mrs Hudson makes things slightly better for the boys...Seeing them in a different light
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock stormed into the flat and flopped down on the sofa. John didn't need to be a genius to work out that he had had a bad day. For the next twenty minutes Sherlock lay in a huff and refused to speak. John waited for the onslaught to come and eventually came.

"How can some people be so ridiculously stupid and refuse to let me inside their establishment when it is very obvious that there is illegal activity of the drug related kind going on right under their noses. Some people need to realise that when I show up it is IMPORTANT!"

Sherlock was angry and John hated when he was like this because it made him more unbearable than usual. There would be very little chance of John getting any sleep as the violin would be played all night. He decided then to get ahead of the game and go to bed early enough to get at least an hour or two before the concert began.

"I'll just leave you to it then" said John getting up out of his armchair. Sherlock ignored him completely and John wondered why he even bothered. Sometimes it would be so much easier if he was sharing a flat with someone else…someone less dramatic and also less childish.

Two hours later John was woken by the concert and he felt bad not because it had woken him up but because it would have more than likely woken Mrs. Hudson up. Now there was a woman who endured her share of suffering with the great Sherlock Holmes. Any other landlady would have kicked Sherlock out by now but not Mrs. Hudson. She was very liberal with Sherlock's antics and no matter how many times she uttered the phrase "not your housekeeper" she still got Sherlock, and John, anything they might need.

She was a force to be reckoned with and John would not like to be on the wrong side of Sherlock if someone mistreated her. He had been there the time Mycroft had told her to shut up after all. Their relationship mystified John in some respects. It was as if she was a mother to Sherlock in some ways and Sherlock was as equally protective of her as he would be off is own mother. He often wondered how this had come about. Yes, Sherlock had helped her out with her husband but there must have been something more.

John stopped thinking for a minute as it appeared the music had changed. It was more peaceful and relaxing now, not angry and manic. John listened closely and realised that there were voices coming from downstairs. Curiousity got the better of him and he pulled on a dressing gown. When he reached the door to the sitting room he saw that Sherlock was sitting on the sofa and was no longer playing the violin. The one and only Mrs. Hudson at his side, head lying on his shoulder. This was very strange to behold. Somehow, she had managed the impossible. Sherlock was calm and not only that; he was laughing.

"Come in John", Sherlock said noticing John for the first time, "Mrs. Hudson was just telling me a story about…well better not ruin it. I'll let her tell it herself."

John decided not to question this moment of humanity coming from Sherlock and instead sat down in his armchair and listened to Mrs. Hudson tell some fantastic stories from her younger days.

As John made his way back up the stairs at two in the morning he couldn't help but feel that he had just gotten a snippet more insight into the relationship between Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson. He slept well that night knowing that the detective would not continue his manic concert for some time.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I wanted to write a follow up to this for a while so here it is! Please enjoy...**

John had suffered while Sherlock was absent from his life. Three years of believing his friend to be dead had taken their toll on the doctor. He had become bitter and that little bit more wary of the people around him. Anything that reminded him of Sherlock had to go and that included Mrs Hudson. Those things made him angry and when he became aware of their presence he felt the rage bubble up inside.

Mary had made himbetter but under the surface there was an undeniable frustration that every now and then appeared, causing chaos and disorder in his life. Mary would let things take their course and then try her best to calm him down.

"Come on John, leave the past in the past. Getting angry won't solve anything. You know that..." had been said countless times by her but it never seemed to help.

One particular day pushed John to the limits. The great detective sauntered back into his life as if nothing had happened and John saw red. He punched, roared, and stared at the man who had hurt him so badly and every emotion he had felt over the past three years came flooding back t his mind. It was too much to handle and he had to get away.

The cab pulled up outside 221B. Why it had left him here he didn't know; probably Sherlock's doing, or Mycroft's. He stepped into the familiar street and was greeted at the door by a smiling face. He, not for the last time that night, felt the urge to punch the smile right of her face, but he could never lay a finger on Mrs Hudson.

He followed her inside, sitting in silence while the kettle boiled.

"That's it dear, you just need to let it all out. Let me see that anger. It's bad to bottlethings up you know...my husband used to say that too..." Well if that's what she wanted then that was what she was going to get!

For a solid forty minutes John shouted, banged tables, hit chairs and screamed at his former landladywhile she just stood there and took every single word of abuse that came her way. When he was finished, she simply nodded, stood up and said

"Is that all dear? Good, now go back over there and hug the life out of that Sherlock. He hasn;t had an easy time either. Just remember that John. Oh you too will be the death of me!" She laughed gently and John realised just how good that sounded. She had done it again, just like she had done for Sherlock. Once again MrsHudson had made the improbable, probable.


End file.
